


Un Assassinio Molto Silenzioso

by theescapist99



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, amongst other things, and original percival graves is there too, bye, canon divergence sort of, erm sort of, grindelwald is a very sadistic man, holy shit angst, i guess, its percivals birthday wooo, lets just assume the end of the fb movie didnt happen, ok thats all the tags i can think of, percivals pov, psychological torture too, seriously though, this story is mostly one long rape, this takes place somewhere in the middle, we have grindlegraves raping credence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 17:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10518339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theescapist99/pseuds/theescapist99
Summary: I felt Credence's body tremble violently against my own, and my entire soul ached with the urge to console him. Solemnly, I wondered how much longer the boy's body could even hold out -- I had no doubts he was a virgin, and I had not seen Grindelwald even bother to use any kind of lubrication on him.I thought that perhaps I heard a squeak escape my lips as I fought to speak with trapped bellows and pleas:You're killing him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "Un Assassinio Molto Silenzioso"
> 
> Translation:
> 
> "A Very Quiet Assassination"

I asked him to kill me. 

On more than one occasion, I hate to say that I did actually beg for my life – but only to end it.  

Bound in that dusty attic, chained by my wrists --- beaten, bloodied, and starved beyond all recognition – the very last dignity that Grindelwald could have granted me was death. 

But of course, he didn’t.  

Grindelwald had only smiled with his trademark grin -- that cruel smile that twisted his lips upward like that of the Cheshire cat. 

" _Now, Percy._.. what fun would that be?"  

It would be no fun at all.  

Not for me, at least.  

But it would be mercy.  

Mercy that I was a fool to ever think Gellert Grindelwald could be capable of.  

I had lost track of any sense of time, so I relied on the sounds of Grindelwald's footsteps and the routine of his appearances in order to try and determine whether it was day or night. The bastard still had to go by my same work schedule, a schedule that would stay imprinted in my mind no matter how much torture I endured.  

Once, I heard the front door slam closed through walls that had always been advantageously thin.  

I could hear the footfalls of the brisk gait that Grindelwald had been able to mimic so well. I knew it must be sometime after 5 since there must have been roughly 8 hours until I heard the gait last.  

But trailing after those -- there was a second pair of footsteps.  

I swallowed hard, wondering if I should attempt to start screaming for help. 

If it was some person Grindelwald had been obligated to bring into his home as Percival Graves, this could very well be my only chance to escape.  

Yet, if it was one of Grindelwald's cohorts who would not help me either which way, I could make my time in captivity much worse by trying to get their attention.  

Unfortunately, I took a bit too long to decide.  

The attic door opened, and Grindelwald stepped in, covered in his trademark Percival Graves attire.  

He was sneering, his eyes glinting with mischief and sadism. I could only glare in return, hoping whatever the hell was going to happen next wasn't going to be too painful.  

"Do you know what today is, Percy?" Grindelwald asked me in a high, sing song voice.  

I only rolled my eyes in response, unwilling to humor Grindelwald's seemingly playful mood – not that that ever stopped him.  

"… _it's your birthday_ , Percy. You really should lighten up." I watched my own lips smirk as he said the remark, and oddly my first thought was to contemplate whether or not I looked that smug on a regular basis.  

"I have a gift for you."  

Grindelwald aimed his wand at the center of my chest, and for a fleeting moment I had thought that perhaps he might finally grant my wish. 

I hoped that maybe this "birthday gift" could be a kiss from the angel of death. It would be a good one. 

"Petrificus Totalus!" were the words he shouted instead, and I felt my body go rigid with instant paralysis.  

I had no control over my mouth or voice to ask why, and my eyes were locked in wide surprise, the spell having captured my reaction to the unexpected turn of events.  

Grindelwald undid my binds, and he allowed me to fall to the floor with full awareness and absolutely no agency.  

It had been so long since I'd been magically petrified, I had to admit I had forgotten what it felt like.  

It was a simple thing, really. Often wizard kids and teens used the spell on each other as mere pranks. The few times that no-majs had fall victim to it, they dubbed it "sleep paralysis" -- but even they lived.  

In my situation however – in the darkness of the place where I had been pulled apart and not yet quite sewn back together --- the loss of mobility without loss of consciousness was instantaneously maddening.  

The dull sound of foreign footsteps came again from another room, and Grindelwald turned his head in the sounds direction. When he looked back down at me, he had this expression of disturbing elation.  

"Are you ready for your gift, Percy?" Was all he said before the imposter suddenly turned and left the attic.  

When he came back, he was not alone.  

In the small confinement of the dimly lit room, Grindelwald had to step aside before Credence and I could fully see each other. The younger man was every bit as shaky and nervous and malnourished as I could remember him -- even as he stood, Credence curled into himself, his shoulders hunched in a permanent flinch.  

I tried to scream at Grindelwald, my throat itching to demand why the dark wizard had even brought him here – but of course, my voice box was still and unwilling to make even the smallest of sounds. 

It  was Credence who ended up speaking first, as soon as he had recovered from the shock of seeing two Percivals in the room.  

"Who... who is that?" Credence asked, his eyes not leaving his frozen form.  

The boy's gaze took me in with uninhibited distaste, an expression on him I hadn't seen since I had first showed him the existence of magic -- when he had been torn between childlike wonder and the pious  Christian that had been instilled to turn away from such abominations.  

When Grindelwald answered him, his voice sounded a bit more like the voice of Gellert Grindelwald. Perhaps not enough for Credence to notice a difference, but my ears still picked up on the change. 

"That is Percival Graves. The  _real_ Percival Graves. He's dead."  

Credence turned to look at Grindelwald, obviously confused.  

I wanted so badly to scream, yell at the boy that it was not true; that he needed to run as quickly as possible. 

Still, my voice fell mute and I was helpless to watch as Credence tilted his head at Grindelwald like a bewildered animal.  

"But... you're..." Credence began, but Grindelwald cut him off with a casual hand wave.  

"No, Credence," Grindelwald closed the distance between himself and the kid, his expression hungry, "... _I'm really not_." 

In a swift motion, Grindelwald pushed Credence downward so that he landed with his belly directly on top of my own. Credence yelped --- likely more surprised than hurt.  

My hands itched to reach up and grab his arms, to catch him --- but my fingers failed to budge.  

Moving quickly, Grindelwald knelt down and grabbed the top of Credence's pants, his hand easily waving them away with wandless magic.  

The bloodstained leather belt that Credence always wore as a reminder of his impurities fell by the wayside, hitting the planks of the floor with a loud clatter.  

"Mr. Graves, what are you doing?!?" Credence screamed shrilly at Grindelwald, his hands moving to cover a pelvis that was still concealed by underwear. 

At least, until Grindelwald yanked those off too, and I could see Credence turn a bright shade of red.  

 _Fuck._  

 _I have_ _to do something._  

 _I can't_ _just let this happen._  

Credence Barebone and I hadn't been very close before Grindelwald came to America. 

Consider though that I was never very close with anybody.  

When Tina had meddled with the Second Salmers, I might admit to getting emotionally invested in the case --- even particularly with Credence.  

His sisters had also worried me, but Mary Lou did seem to treat the girls at least somewhat better. If I had asked either Chastity or Modesty to come leave with me -- maybe find another foster family -- I'm not entirely sure the would have agreed.  

Credence, however, had been held hostage in that church.  

I had yearned to help more -- but the faint traces of magic I had picked up from the boy were never concrete enough to allow me to fully break the statute of secrecy (at least more than I already did).  

All I had been able to do was treat him to the occasional lunch, or leave him little gifts to find.  

Sometimes, I had even wondered if these little gestures of charity had been more cruel than kind. 

After all, at the end of the day, he would still have to go back to that place – the church that God forgot.  

Under the blow of Mary Lou's whips, I couldn't say if he had used those meager memories with me to provide him comfort... or if he only saw them as teasing glimpses of the life he should have had. It was possible they only served to remind him that there were better things in the world than abuse and abandonment, and that he simply was not blessed with any of it. 

And now, Credence writhed on top of me as Grindelwald lowered himself onto the boy's exposed ass -- I saw the large girth of my own hardened cock, a size I had always prided myself on, coming down to meet split between his legs like a guillotine to a chopping block. 

He plunged into him without any pretense of foreplay, and Credence literally screamed into my ear.  

The boy's cry of pain was both bloodcurdling and deafening – but as one might imagine, that wasn't what hurt the most in this moment. 

While that eardrum may have cracked slightly, my heart seemed to shatter into fragments.  

Grindelwald began to thrust, and Credence began to sob, and I was left to lay like a rug.  

Credence screamed into the base of my frozen neck until the boy eventually lost his voice; it grew gradually hoarse from overuse.  

This didn't slow Grindelwald down any, as he seemed to pound into the boy harder, in some cruel attempt to bring the screams back.  

I felt Credence's body tremble violently against my own, and my entire soul ached with the urge to console him. Solemnly, I wondered how much longer the boy's body could even hold out -- I had no doubts he was a virgin, and I had not seen Grindelwald even bother to use any kind of lubrication on him. 

I thought that perhaps I heard a squeak escape my lips as I fought to speak with trapped bellows and pleas: 

 _You're killing him._  

 _He can't handle this --- you're literally going to break him in half, you sick bastard._  

 _Can't you take me instead?_  

 _Just stop this, dammit Grindelwald!_  

But between Credence's whimpering and Grindelwald's moans and the sickening sound of flesh clapping against flesh over and over – it was hard to tell.  

In my peripheral vision, I could see the trails of blood that were dripping down Credence's thin legs.  

"Please, please, stop!" Credence's agonized cries were muffled by my own shoulder, as he clenched down on me for some support, "Please, it hurts! I can't –  _please_ , I don't want this..."  

If my tear ducts could function, I had thought to myself dryly, I would probably be crying right now. While the sounds and sights of Credence's distress had no visible reflection on my exterior body, whatever spirit or essence that lived inside me thrashed and flailed in woeful misery.  

But of course, Grindelwald knew that full well.  

Grindelwald knew, and Credence didn’t, and he if the boy died right then and there he would have died not only savagely raped, but incomprehensibly confused. A boy who had known nothing but physical and emotional pain – who had finally thought he had found someone to trust, because I had tried to grant him at least that – would have died in the most horrible way possible. 

 _That_ was Grindelwald's birthday gift to me. 

As though sensing my train of thought, Grindelwald grabbed a fistful of Credence's hair, yanking the boy's head up. Remarkably, his thrusting managed to continued at a steady pace as he forced Credence to look directly at me, and the boys tears and snot splattered down on my stock still face like heavy rain.  

The taste of salt slipped into my slightly parted mouth, and it was the worst thing I had ever tasted in my entire life. 

"He's dead because of you, you know?" Grindelwald crooned into Credence's ear, and Credence shook his head weakly, the boys shallow breaths still hitching with every plunge of Grindelwald's cock into his bleeding asshole.  

"Oh yes, my boy. He died trying to stop me from meeting you, so I killed him and took his identity. And you bought it," the dark wizard tittered, "I've spent the most time with you wearing his face, and yet you didn't even notice it wasn't him... how do you think that would make him feel? The person he died for couldn't even tell the difference between him and a stranger. I bet wherever he is now, he's regretting that waste of a sacrifice. You're a  _bad_ little whore, Credence." 

Grindelwald sneered, and Credence could only cry harder. The timid heartbeat that I had been feeling knocking against my own chest -- like the beckoning of some wounded victim at my doorstep -- it faded into near nothingness. 

 _No._  

 _Don't listen to him,Credence._  

 _Please... please_ _don't listen to him._  

 _I'm not dead!_ _I'm right here!_  

And then Grindelwald screamed as he came, ramming my own penis into Credence so hard that Credence's limp body was jolted upwards; a bony, sweaty collarbone was suddenly the only part of him in my direct line of vision.  

He pulled out, and Grindelwald got to his feet only to stoop down again.  

He grabbed Credence by a forearm and lifted him roughly upwards. I was left to look up at them blankly, but the full sight of Credence's battered and beaten state made my emotions anything but numb -- the boys entire bottom half was covered in miniture rivers of red blood and marks, and it was clear that Grindelwald's hold on him was the only thing keeping him standing. 

"Now... I want you to apologize to dear Percival for causing his death." Grindelwald gently chided the boy like a parent would scold a small child – and dear god if I ever had a incentive to rip Gellert Grindelwald apart with my own hands, it was this fucking moment.  

To my horror, Credence forced himself to speak through the sounds of his own broken sobs and gasps. 

"I'm...  _I'm so sorry, Mr. Graves_."  

Yet the way he said it, I got the inclination that it was less his following Grindelwald's instructions and more about his own, genuine regrets -- regrets for a situation that wasn't even true.  

And with the voice of my own mind -- a voice no one could hear -- I apologized as well.  

I apologized for dragging the boy into this. I apologize for failing to protect him. I apologized for any morsel of false hope I may have ever given the boy, where I had only wanted to give him some taste of happiness. 

And finally, I apologized because I had asked Grindelwald to kill me...  

...but he took him instead.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> come chat?
> 
> carryonmyobscurialson.tumblr.com
> 
> Monsters Under The Bed update (probably) later tonight


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